


The Arcana Reader Insert One Shots, Scenarios, and Headcanons

by Worship_The_Potato



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Broken Bones, Cheating, Cute, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, How Do I Tag, Injury, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Please Send Help, Sad, Sad Ending, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, What Have I Done, sherlock!au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:07:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24711325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Worship_The_Potato/pseuds/Worship_The_Potato
Summary: A bunch of random Arcana stuff with you in the middle ^^ You can make requests... but I don't know if I'll do them. I'll do my best though, loves!Do not copy to another site. This is originally posted on AO3, if you are reading this elsewhere it was not permitted.Tumblr: halloween-never-ends
Relationships: Asra (The Arcana)/Reader, Julian Devorak/Reader, Lucio (The Arcana)/Reader, Muriel (The Arcana)/Reader, Nadia (The Arcana)/Reader, Portia Devorak/Reader
Comments: 33
Kudos: 121





	1. The Main Six with an Artistic Partner || Modern!AU

**Asra**

  * Asra’s always been a fan of your work



  * As children, the two of you would sit in his mother’s garden, the smell of herbs and flowers surrounding you and filling your body with a sense of peace and happiness.



  * In adulthood, he’s your number one fan.



  * Asra models for you every now and then. However, he knows that your one true muse has been and always will be Faust, your favorite noodle to doodle.



  * He often finds you asleep at your desk in your shared herb and tea shop, passed out over a new ad concept or masterpiece of Faust, the sight filling his soul with warmth.



  * His second favorite piece is of him, drawn in an almost lifelike manner.



  * His first is Faust destroying Tokyo.



**Nadia**

  * You actually met Nadia through your art, gaining employment under her with your skill and cheerful attitude.



  * Now, nothing could separate you.



  * Barely a day would go by where you didn’t at least sketch the lovely Queen of your Heart. The CEO preferred to be called a countess.



  * A few months into your relationship, Nadia began asking for art lessons, which you eagerly agreed to. The lessons often, but not always, changed course into sweet little make out sessions.



  * Her favorite piece is of you and her, by a fountain, done in charcoal. Now, the piece is framed and placed above the fireplace, in full view to all who visit.



**Julian**

  * His DARLING is an ARTIST!? Why didn’t you tell him! He’s the perfect model. Tall, mysterious, has an eye patch? Really, you must draw him.



  * …unless he doesn’t deserve to be drawn. He’s a failure! He’s failed his sister, his whole family… he’ll only fail you too, in your hour of need… *dramatic chair flop*



  * He won’t believe you when you insist he’ll be an amazing model. He just can’t!



  * ...unless he can. He’s on the bed in an instant, shirt on the floor as he strikes an attractive pose.



  * This is your life now.



  * Accept it



**Portia**

  * Oh, oh, oh!



  * She’s excited, bouncing off the walls with hyper squeals and screeches. She insists, you must draw Pepi. If anyone or anything deserves to be drawn because they simply exist, it’s Pepi!



  * The number of Pepi portraits you’ve done are impossible to count, covering almost every inch of space on Portia’s wall, with a few canvases glued to the ceiling. She paid you for each one, with either money or dinner at a nice mom and pop diner.



  * When you bring up painting her, she blushes but eagerly agrees, eyes sparkling.



  * Her favorite piece is of her and Pepi, sleeping by the fireplace with snow settling on the windowsill.



**Muriel**

  * You make clay sculptures for a living; a quiet, slow activity. It’s perfect for Muriel to watch.



  * He met you at a flea market, before closing, and bought four figurines. Two were chickens, one was a snake, and the last was a wolf. He came back every day after that, sometimes stopping by, other waving a quick, shy hello.



  * After you started dating, he began to sculpt too, learning from the pro he knew.



  * No matter what, he made sure he sculpted with you at least twice a week.



  * He loves the Innana figurine you made for his birthday and takes it everywhere he goes.



**Lucio**

  * You realized you made a mistake in telling Lucio you were an artist the moment you finished his first oil portrait. He ran around his mansion, showing each and every maid, gardener, butler, and cook what his schnookiums made.



  * If there’s one thing Lucio likes more than himself, it’s seeing people study him to recreate him so he can see even MORE of him. LucioCeption!



  * After his first portrait, he begs you to do his babies. His puppies need it! Mercades and Melchior stay still through out the whole thing, quite different from Lucio. When it’s done, he screams. Loudly, clearly, eyes wide with wonder as he examines the art of his dogs.



  * You can’t help but smile as he tries to show the uninterested dogs.



  * His favorite piece is him, in the pool, with Merci and Melchi by his side.




	2. Tipping Point || Lucio x GN!Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Can I request some Lucio angst? Theman is a t h o t so maybe the apprentice finds him cheating on them during a masquerade and breaks up with him on the spot? Just make him cry please as much as I love that trash man I love making him suffer more-"
> 
> Requested by LiterallyJustMichael
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! I did my best ^^
> 
> CW: Cheating

Lucio’s mask sat upon the floor, resting mere inches from a cleaning closet, and a meter and a half from your feet. From inside, the little, cluttered room, he moaned, back to you while some prissy noblewoman sucked a hickey to his collarbone, sweet little giggles clearly intoxicating your boyfriend.

You shouldn’t be surprised – and you weren’t. After a while you lost your ability to be angry – to be surprised – with him when he cheated. You lost count of how many times he betrayed your trust, your love, after his fling with a southern dignitary. Slightly, just barely, amused, you felt thankful he’d learned to stay out of your shared bed.

Leaning against the wall, you checked under your nails to pass the time and waved a greeting to Portia as she sluggishly walked by, her signature unimpressed expression glued on her face before she offered you and apologetic look. You simply shrugged, waiting for him, or her, to notice you while Portia walked off, heading for her loving, beautiful, _loyal_ wife. Sometimes you wish you were the redhead, married in a stable relationship. However, you knew that, giving the choice, your path drifted to Lucio regardless.

When Lucio’s hands fell to his pants, you cleared your throat. You weren't interested in watching him bone a chick.   


“Door’s open.”

The two went stiff, the noble woman standing to her full height, taller than Lucio, who turned around, a sheepish grin on his face.

“Babyyy!” he cooed, standing on his toes, as if to hide the woman from your view. “Are you having fun? It’s my birthday, remember? You have to have fun!”

“I bet she’s having a blast,” you stated, still leaning against the wall. “Nice hickies.”

Defeated, he hung his head in shame, a pout on his lips as he tapped his boot against the floor, swaying slightly. “...I’m sorry… I won’t do it again?”

You almost winced, a pang of agonizing despair shooting through your heart. How often had he said that? How often had he promised to to you right? How many times must you see him like this before you gave up? How many times did he have to betray your trust?

“Yeah,” you nodded, pushing yourself upright. “You won’t. I'm going to make sure of that.”

Reaching up, you pulled off your bejeweled wrist cuff. He gifted it to you on your third date, placing it around your wrist with a soft trail of kisses up your arm, over your shoulders and neck, and down your jaw, breathing out his devotion before sealing his promises with a kiss to your lips.

A wonderful performance, you had to admit. You believed it.  


“...a-angelcakes?” he whispered, shock and dejection seeping through his features. “Wait!” he cried, lunging forward as the cuff hit the floor. “I-I can do better! She meant nothing to me! You’re my diamond, my ruby, my mother of pearl!”

You were already headed down the hall, headed for a hidden passage out. You didn’t want to deal with anyone. Each time he grabbed at your arm, you shook him off, hands shaking with… what were you feeling? Rage? Agony? You weren’t sure you wanted the answer.

After all this time, you were finally walking away, walking away from the instability that kept you up at night.

“...my lilly of the valle—”

“Stop!” you shouted, snapping around to face him. Your heart clenched, breath catching in your throat as you took him in.

His makeup was smudged, bits of it on his flesh hand from when he wiped his eyes, eyeliner streaking down his cheeks and neck, some murky dots painting his godly golden suit. You didn’t want to look at his eyes, to see his pain, but you did, your heart sinking with each and every beat  as you stared into those icy  silver eyes, surrounded by irritated pink  sclera .   


You sucked in a breath, eyes locked on his.

“...please…,” he whispered, voice cracking, hands shaking as he reached out, taking your head in his careful grasp. “I won’t do it again… please… I can do better! We can go back to the party. I-I won't look at another person, I swear!”  
  
  


"Lucio... how long will that promise last?" you whispered, shaking your head. "A week? A day? An hour? I can't keep doing this."   
  


"B-but! I promise!" he whimpered, bottom lip trembling.

Reaching up, you took his hands, lowering them from your face. You took a step back, turning to the wall.

“I… I hope you have a good life,” you stated, blinking back tears. You couldn’t loose your composure. Not now. “And I hope you… you enjoy yourself. Happy birthday, Count Lucio.”

You stepped through the wall, stomach twisting in on itself as Lucio’s faint sobs wriggled their way into your ears, his voice calling your name, fingers brushing the back of your masquerade costume before you appeared in front of the palace gates,  hands trembling and throat tight. Shaking your head, you began to trek back to the shop. 

You had a business to run.


	4. When You Get Hurt || Main 6/GN!Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Probably not the best, but I felt like I needed to pop something out. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Any applicable TW"  
> Asra: broken bone  
> Nadia: None  
> Julian: None  
> Portia: Kitchen accident/cut, non-gory  
> Muriel: None  
> Lucio: None

**Asra**

“Does it hurt?”

Holding your hand against your chest, you laughed, doing your best not to sound snappy or unappreciative of Asra’s assistance. On shopping day, you broke your finger while striking a dramatic pose, throwing your arm back…

...right into a lamp pole. You didn’t need to look at it to confirm whether or not it was broken. You felt it. Asra saw it.

“It’s broken, As,” you responded, healthy hand pressed to your temple while you leaned back in a chair, your shop a somewhat comforting place. “It hurts. Badly…”

Faust slid up your leg, head settling on your knee to keep you company while Asra readied a healing spell, actions calm and collected as he seemed to glide through the shop, glancing back at you every now and then.

Returning to you, he offered a smile and a cookie. “It won’t hurt for much longer. I promise.”

**Nadia**

“Nadia…,” you groaned, shuffling into her luxurious bedroom with a pained, low groan.

Hours earlier, you headed out to the garden to read, settling down near the fountain with a new book in hand and some water. You hadn’t slept that well the previous nights and ended up asleep by the fountain. Needless to say, you woke up with a sunburn and greatly discomforted.

“My love?” Nadia asked, glancing up from her desk, leaving her letters to foreign dignitaries behind. “My love, what happened?” she whispered, stopping before you with a grimace.

You gave a pained chuckle, jerking away as she reached out to touch you. “I highly suggest we declare war on the sun,” you joked, glancing down at your arms. “Or, at the very least, put a covered bench by the fountain...”

With a fond smile, she led you to her bed, sitting you down gently. “I’ll take your suggestion and meditate on it,” she responded, heading to the bathroom.

She returned a moment later, a bottle of aloe vera in her hands.

“My mother would use this on me and my sisters,” she stated, applying some to her hands.

You nodded, relaxing into her touch as she rubbed it on your skin, the fiery feeling slowly calming, soothing down until you barely felt it. By the time she was done, your eyes were closed, her fingers massaging your skin and relaxing any taut muscles.

With that, you slipped back into Sandman’s world.

**Julian**

Hahahhaahhaha. This man’s a doctor and took your wound for you in canon. I can’t top this, y’all. I can’t. I’m sorry. You would have died _but you didn’t_. I can’t top it.

**Portia**

“Portia, I’m fine!”

“No! No, you’re not!” Portia responded, cradling your hand while dabbing it clean with a washcloth. “How did you miss the carrot?”

“I-I was watching Pepi playing outside,” you reasoned, cheeks pink. Honestly, you couldn’t even begin to comprehend how embarrassed you were. You were making soup with your girlfriend, having the best time, and the carrot slipped. It wasn’t a bad cut, and it wasn’t very deep. If anything, it looked and felt like a paper-cut.

She smiled her cat-like smile, looking over your finger after cleaning it. “There! Good as new. Or… well… the package may have been damaged on delivery with the cut… but that doesn’t really matter!” she laughed. “What matters is that you’re fine now.”

Chuckling, you nodded, leaning down to peck her lips with a cheeky grin. “And, my radiant girlfriend took care of me.”

A/N: In a modern AU, Portia would _absolutely_ be the cottagecore girlfriend with hundreds of adorable, cartoony cat bandaids.

**Muriel**

You yelped, hitting the floor with a rough thud, your rude awakening startling you into high alert. Your eyes snapped up to the bed, the roof of the hut just beyond it, back twinging with pain. You struggled to your feet, a hand on your back. With a small glance down, you groaned and looked away. You landed on Muriel’s shoes.

Turning your attention to the bed, you sighed. Inanna kicked you off the bed in her, running in her sleep.

“...are you okay?” Muriel murmured, propping himself up, blinking sleep from his eyes.

You nodded, hissing as you popped your back. It only seemed to make it worse. “...no. Inanna was running in her sleep again and kicked me off… I’ll be fine, Muriel. I promise.”

Muriel stared, lips pursed before he looked down, slowly, gently scooting Inanna over, until she was on your side, Muriel was in the middle, and there was a cozy space on his other side.

Gratefully, you crawled over to that side, where he held you tightly in his arms. “Better?”

“Much.”

As you fell back asleep, one thought sat in your mind.

Muriel moved Inanna for you…

**Lucio**

“I need a doctor!”

“Lucio—”

“I need the medical staff in my chambers!” the Count shouted, running through the palace with you in his arms.

“Lucio!”

“This is urgent! I need Julian! Asra! Anyone!” he called, kicking his chamber doors open and throwing you on the bed, tearing your shoe off and snatching your foot.

You yanked it back, eyes wide in horror. “Lucio, enough! I stubbed my toe. It’s not the end of the world.”

He scoffed, grabbing your foot again and with more force, determination set on his face as he cradled it close, careful, like a newborn babe. “And it was your pinkie toe! The nail’s broken. Broken! If this isn’t an emergency, I don’t know what is.”

“A fire, a broken bone, an ax murderer, anything else!” you reasoned, pulling your foot back and standing up. “See? I’m standing. I’m not dying.”

“ _Yet_!”


	5. Sharlock!AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ!
> 
> Okay, I started this chapter like... last year, lost interest in it, had some mental health trouble, and woke up at three A.M. a few weeks ago and finished it. I tried my best to edit it up but like... yeah, it didn't go as planned. I'm mostly posting this to hope this inspires someone reading it, because I know you can make this a million times better. Please enjoy! And if you do write something, please tag me on Tumblr or leave a comment! I'd love to see it!

Your footsteps were quick upon the marble floor, your shoes thudding as you and your boss, Asra Alnazar, rushed for the heiress’s grand livingroom, his pipe in his mouth and brown plaid coat swaying with each step.

You burst through, catching the attention of the heiress Nadia Satrinava, her maid Portia Devorak, her butler Muriel, and her late husband’s doctor, Julian Devorak.

“Ah, detective,” Nadia greeted, setting her wine glass down. “I’m pleased to see you. Have you news?”

She stood, lovely lime and white dress ghosting over the floor, the sleeves to which hugged her shoulders comfortably, complimenting her queenly figure.

Asra nodded, looking about the room as he pulled his pipe from his lips. “We’ve solved the murder of your husband, Mrs. Satrinava.”

“Oh? Do sit,” she requested, seating herself.

“I appreciate the offer, however, I believe it would be best if I were to stand.”

She nodded, glancing at you momentarily. You gave a slow, awkward shrug. You didn’t plan on spoiling anything.

“I wish to start by first thanking you, heiress,” Asra began, pacing the room in a slow and methodical manner, gazing into each painting. “Your kindness and genero—”

“I DID IT! I killed Lucio—”

Portia butted in, chucking a pillow at him with a dark scowl. “Oh, be quiet, Ilya! You were with the butler, gambling all night! And you lost… a lot. Honestly, you would blame yourself for a riot on the other side of town.”

“She’s right, Doctor,” Asra stated, shaking his head. “You are innocent. I apologize for the disappointment,” he chuckled. “As I was saying… what was I saying? Ah. Your openness with me and my assistant has given us all we’ve needed to fly through this investigation, to gather our evidence, and to pin down a culprit. And I thank you.”

Muriel listened intently, eyes on Asra as he spoke. Only a few hours ago, you learned the two had a history together, leading back into their younger years.

“On the night of Lucio Morgasson’s murder, you told me, Mrs. Satrinava, that you were alone. This story changed when I pressed into the details,” he mused, taking his pipe out for a moment. “This story of yours changed a multitude of times until we finally reached the truth.”

“You were with your maid,” you stated, arms crossed before your chest. “Romantically, if I may add.”

“Eep!” Portia gasped, eyes wide.

Calmly, eerily so, Nadia sat her chin on the top of her hand, leaning to the side in her chair, piercing red eyes locked on yours. “…she told you about that… I suppose the truth was bound to come out sooner or later.”

“No. Portia never said a word,” you responded. “You told us, just now.”

“At first, my theory was one of passion,” Asra stated, blowing on his pipe. “You were trapped, sealed inside a loveless marriage with a self absorbed fool who simply couldn’t see to your emotional, physical, or intimate needs. You felt alone and unwanted, neglected. And then came Portia. A fiery angel with a heart of gold. She saw to your every need and want, and the spark between you two raged into a blazing inferno unlike one you’d ever felt. Lucio found you one night, didn’t he?”

“No. Even if he _had_ , he would have been too busy with Valerius.”

...

...

“…ah. I see,” Asra stated, glancing back at you.

So you had missed something…

“Valerus… didn’t kill him… if that’s what you’re thinking,” Muriel muttered, deep, gruff voice low yet soft. “He wasn’t here that night… the paper… he was arrested… public indecency…”

“Ah, I saw that,” Asra nodded. “Thank you for reminding me, Muriel. I appreciate it greatly.”

Though he remained silent, the large man smiled.

“Now! The good doctor… you walked in on your sister and Mrs. Satrinava, did you not?” Asra asked, pointing his pipe at him. “You’ve confirmed that the first scream, reported by Muriel, was from you.”

“…I… yes… that was mine,” Julian responded, looking away shamefully. “I was holding what would later be used to murder the count… I thought Portia was in trouble! And so I kicked the door in… she was not in trouble. I, however, was… great, great trouble.”

“We were just talking, Ilya,” Portia snorted, cheeks bright pink.

“Now, moving on,” Asra began. “Muriel was with my assistant the night of the murder. We had only just arrived in the city earlier in the day. Muriel got the day off and came to spend time with us. However, I had to retire earlier than usual. Travel simply… took my energy from me. I’ve never had that happen before, however, the alcohol may have played a factor in that,” he chuckled, slightly embarrassed.

“Muriel is truly a lovely companion,” you nodded, smiling gently at the goliath of a man.

Finally seating himself, Asra caught your eyes. “You look like you want to say something… is something wrong?”

“Asra… you’ve said that you retired early, to the hotel. I returned to the hotel an hour before Lucio’s murder. You weren’t there,” you commented, taking a few steps forward. “This hour before was half an hour after you said you turned in. Now, maybe you had left before hand? Maybe… you left to get just one more drink. I asked the receptionist on duty. He’d been there for, mmm, all evening. He hadn’t left his post once. Asra, he never saw you return.”

“…I see.”

“The last time I saw you before the murder, Asra, you were wearing a deep brown vest and a white button up underneath. It was the only vest you had and the shirt was one of eight. Before we came here tonight, I checked you luggage,” you informed. “You have six shirts in your suitcase and one on your person. The eight is missing and your vest is gone. Now, this very well may be coincidence. You went out, met a lovely person, and forgot those articles of clothes in their room. Or, perhaps you were mugged? However, I believe a less innocent answer may be the most accurate. After leaning of your history with Lucio from Muriel, I don’t believe it’s a stretch to say that you are the guilty party.”

Leaning forward, Asra let out a long, slow sigh. “And you would be right, dear friend.”


End file.
